


Waiting Game

by adhdhinata



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, I Wrote This While Stoned, I usually don't write fic but i got the sudden inspiration to lmao, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 15:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13367622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adhdhinata/pseuds/adhdhinata
Summary: “Better?” Michael asks, as if his only intention was to make Jeremy more comfortable and not to be as close to him as possible.





	Waiting Game

 

 

>   _waiting game, aka, “hey im stoned and for a reason i’m not aware of was inspired and wrote fic“_
> 
> _this might have horrible mistakes in it. i wouldn’t be aware of them but i had my roomie look it over so hopefully its fine_

 

* * *

 

They’re sitting in Michael’s backyard when it happens again.

It’s a nice enough night out, really, though it’s “a bit chilly”, as Jeremy had complained, so Michael had thrown his favorite blanket snug over both of their shoulders.  _(And he made sure to mentally thank the weather for being kinda cold, ‘cause he wouldn’t be pulling this move off otherwise.)_ They’d settled in on the patio, a clear sky above them and cheap wooden boards below.

Their shoulders are touching — which would be enough to set off butterflies in either teen’s stomach on its own — but their legs are also touching, knees pressed up against each other, and Jeremy’s head is  _so, so_  close to resting on Michael’s chest. Jere’s too nervous to lean back all the way, though, which Michael cues in from red cheeks, a pair of shaking hands, and tense muscles.

Michael bites his bottom lip for what seems like an endless moment. Letting out a breath, he shifts Jeremy around a bit, pulling him close in the process. Jeremy’s head ends up actually resting on the other’s torso instead of hanging forwards uncomfortably.

“Better?” Michael asks, as if his only intention was to make Jeremy more comfortable and not to be as close to him as possible. 

“Mh,” Jeremy assents with a quick nod, eyes fluttering shut. It’s not that he’s that tired (he’d love to look at the stars some more, really), he’s just a bit overwhelmed by the pangs of anxiety running from his head to settle in his stomach. He hates that feeling, doesn’t want it to ruin a moment like this, but if he’s learnt anything from life, it’s that it always does, and his head starts to reel and he swears he can hear a muffled, low voice in the back of his brain,  _Pathetic_ , it says, it scolds, it  _screams_ —

“Check it out, Jere, you can see Orion over there.”

That familiar voice pulls him back into his own body. Gravity centers again, and his eyes blink open tentatively, lids twitching slightly as Jeremy readjusts to the world. There’s a hand squeezing his shoulder, he notes; It’s gentle and helps him come back up from the water. His brain takes a few seconds to patch together the sounds he’s hearing into words, and the words into actual sentences with meaning, but he’s getting there. 

Michael waits, because he’s good at waiting.

Jeremy’s line of sight follows the direction Michael’s pointing in. He squints slightly, searching this general patch of the sky until he finally spots the constellation with a hum of acknowledgement. “Oh! Didn’t we, um — wait. I remember learning about that one back in elementary, I think.”

“Yeah, we did,” Michael nods, unable to help himself from nostalgically looking back on a time when life was much simpler, emotions much easier. Even so, he finds that he can’t be too nostalgic over the past, because the _right-now_ beats it tenfold. Jeremy’s in his arms, against his chest, they’re sharing a blanket and looking up at stars as if they’re in some stupid John Green movie and Michael finds himself inexplicably content.

Jeremy coughs, unsure of what else to say. 

“I remember learning about that one back in elementary,” he recalls.

Michael remembers something, too. He remembers how in those movies, there’s always some undeserved tragedy, and he feels a wave of sickness rush through his veins. He decides, then and there, that he never wants to compare their lives to a dumb chick-flick ever again. 

_Never again._

_Never, ever again._

Running a hand through soft brunette locks, he swallows and forces the feeling of choking back down his throat.  

“You already told me that,” he explains, gentle and slow.

The words are soft, nonthreatening — he’s not mocking Jeremy. Not over something like this. Jeremy knows this, can count the days devoid of similar slip-ups on only one hand (two fingers, to be exact). Truth be told, he wouldn’t bet against the same situation having occurred before the incident, as well, but he couldn’t remember.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s totally fine. Promise.”

Michael is surprised when Jeremy reaches for his hand, breath catching and eyes widening. Perhaps he shouldn’t be, though, given what Jeremy’s been through. What they’ve been through. He interlocks their fingers together, rubs a circle on Jeremy’s palm soothingly with his thumb.

“Mikey?” Jeremy’s voice is soft as a whisper and so much more breakable.

A brisk breeze sails past them, and Jeremy shivers. Michael carefully tightens the blanket around them both. “Yeah?”

Jeremy cranes his neck, guides Michael’s head down with his hands, and their lips connect.

It’s not the first time, but for Jeremy, it may be.

Michael’s heart constricts and twists in a thousand different directions. In his mind, he lets out a bitter laugh at the universe. He laughs at the situation it put them in. He laughs at the Squip for losing. He laughs at himself for letting sadness overtake him so often when he  _knows_  Jeremy is going to get better, “It’s just going to take some time”, the doctor said — But he laughs hardest at the irony of it all, of saving someone,  _multiple_  people, actually, only to have the one most important to you come back with missing pieces. 

Things have been balancing out day by day, but Michael still feels like it was just yesterday that he sat in that damn stuffy hospital, day-in and day-out, waiting for Jeremy to wake up. They’d thought they were in the clear, at first. When the repetition started, Michael had chalked it up to Jeremy’s usual blanking out. He knew something was horribly wrong when Jeremy confessed his love to him  _twice,_ no apparent memory of Michael’s teary  _I’ve always loved you, too_ from the previous day.

Blinking back a few tears, he sighs and kisses the top of Jeremy’s head. It’s been about a month since the play, and a lot has happened. Jeremy and him ended up as…well, they haven’t labelled themselves yet, but they’re definitely something more than friends — _More than lovers, more than soulmates,_  Michael thinks. He smiles, thankful and melancholic all at once.

“I love you.”

“You already told me that.” 

Jeremy hastily shakes his head. “No, no, I know, I just…” He blushes and looks at the ground bashfully. “…I wanted to say it again.” 

 _Oh._ For the first time in a long time, Michael is filled with hope. 

“I love you, too. So much.” 

For now, two hearts flutter in tandem, though one may or may not remember this tomorrow. But it’s okay. Patience is a virtue Michael’s come to know well. 

Michael waits, because he’s good at waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> just in case you didn't get it: jer has some brain damage from the squipcdent. he has trouble w short term memory.
> 
> (i'm not a doctor idk if this is medically possible but it sounds like it is bc the human brain is WACK)


End file.
